


Out of the Cold

by comealittlecloser



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8780182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comealittlecloser/pseuds/comealittlecloser
Summary: Sam and Dean meet their doppelgängers; two homeless teenage girls. Unfortunately, Scarlett and Joyce are just as fucked up as they are.





	1. Chapter 1

A dark gloom chokes the sky overhead ‘Atomic Liquors’, rays of light struggling to seep through. Police tape surrounds the area, with little success. Clutching to the outskirts of the dingy bar, two sisters can be seen, brawling to keep warm. They stand close. One is visibly older by a few years and keeps a firm foot ahead of the small girl, attempting to guard them both from future disturbances. Her shoes are tattered and her eyes carry almost as much emotional baggage as she. The constant travelling to keep safe holds a hefty responsibility over her state. 

Frayed clothing adorns the two girls as they shiver and possess a tiresome hold on the shopping trolley that carries their few belongings. The younger one bears the most layers and tugs them tighter around her tiny frame while wind barges through the alley. She casts a concerned look towards her sister. It was never this cold back home.

“Scarlett, are you sure you aren’t cold?” she questions through chattering teeth.

“How many times do I have to say it, Joyce? I’m fine,” the older girl responds, prominent goosebumps covering her skin.

The two have been waiting there for a while now, but Scarlett knows it will be worth it in the end. She flinches when she hears her little sister’s stomach grumble. The older girl holds on to the amethyst pendant hanging from her neck with a desperate grip.

A few more minutes pass, until finally, an employee from the bar dumps the contents from a rubbish bin into the dumpster beside them. He raises an eyebrow at the pair and Scarlett merely glares in response, reaching for her knife and tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Soon after, he hurries back inside. The tired teenager returns her weapon to its case on her belt and surveys the area before lifting the lid of the dumpster and digging through the rubbish, in hopes of wasted food. 

Joyce turns her attention to the mouth of the alley they are standing in as two men approach a parked Impala, bickering as they do so. Their words are indistinguishable, which only makes her more curious about the suited men. The taller of the two notice her staring and points in the girls’ direction before leading the other towards them. Joyce’s eyes widen as she stumbles back to her sister, still searching the dumpster. 

“Uh…Scarlett,”

“Hold on, I’ve almost got something”

“Hey there, I’m-” is all a cautious, unrecognised voice can get out before Scarlett whips around, brandishing her weapon and throwing Joyce behind her.

“…Sam,” the male voice finishes as the alarmed girl raises the knife in defence. Her sight flickers between the two, the weapon waving slightly in the air. She observes the strangers and keeps an arm in front of her sister.

The shorter man clears his throat and nudges the other’s arm. They share a glance before pulling badges from their chest pockets and displaying two FBI cards before them.

“Agents Grohl and Cobain,” the longhaired one speaks tentatively, “we just have some questions about the death that occurred here last night,”

Scarlett shifts hesitantly, eyeing the boys.

“Why are you named after music legends?” she asks, or rather demands, causing the short one, allegedly called Cobain, to snicker and look down.

“Just a coincidence,” he answers.

“No such thing as a coincidence,” the defensive girl states.

Cobain suppresses a smile towards the girl and his partner fidgets with his hands in his pockets, beginning his questions.

“So, uh, were you here last night? Around ten pm?” 

No answer.

“You know it’s an offence to withhold information from federal officers, right?” threatens Cobain. 

“We were here just before ten last night,” Joyce admits, causing her sister to look to her abruptly with an incredulous expression. Joyce shrugs back, conveying innocence. 

“Ok great, did you happen to notice anything strange, like,” Grohl pauses to make hand motions, “cold spots or… weird smells,”

“It’s constantly cold out here,” Scarlett scoffs.

“There was something weird though,” Joyce informs them, much less hesitant with the strangers. 

“How so?” asks Cobain, tilting his head down at them. 

The younger girl proceeds to tell the so-called agents about the peculiar figure they witnessed enter the bar before a bright red light consumed the building, and answers all their questions from behind her sister. 

“Alright, thanks so much for your time,” Grohl says, ending the slightly tense conversation with a flashed smile. 

“Yeah, thanks,” echoes the other as he pulls a chocolate bar out of his pocket and offers it to Scarlett, “sorry, I don’t have any cash on me,”

She eyes it cautiously before quickly taking it from his hands, deciding that feeding her sister would be worth taking this man’s sympathy. 

The men leave in their car, and Scarlett looks to her sister sternly.

“What the hell do you think that was?!”

“I was just answering their questions!” Joyce defends herself, placing a hand on her hip.

“You know damn well those were hunters. We don’t help hunters,” Scarlett reminds her sister as she peels open the chocolate and splits it in half.

“They’re just trying to save people, Scarlett. They’re not all the same,”

“Well look where that’s gotten us,” she mutters darkly, shaking her head and handing Joyce both halves of the chocolate after inspecting it thoroughly. 

The small girl sighs as she takes the food, knowing Scarlett would refuse any. 

“Let’s find somewhere to sleep,” the older sister suggests, “preferably away from the murder scene,”

She fishes out a few scraps of food and places them in the trolley before wheeling it down the alley, to somewhere safer. Always looking for somewhere safer.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days after their brief run in with the hunters, Scarlett and Joyce are once again waiting beside the ‘Atomic Liquors’ dumpster. The wind is just as harsh, and the girls are just as hungry. Scarlett knows this is no life for her little sister, but it’s all she can muster at the moment. That is, if she wants to keep them alive. 

She is scanning for food again, with her dark blue eyes, occasionally checking on Joyce. The clouds above are turning greyer by the second, which worries the girl, considering how little shelter they have.

Joyce observes the hunters as they pull in to the alleyway yet again. They exit the car, now dressed in jeans, flannels and leather. She watches them enter the bar hastily, with more urgency than last time. 

“Uh-huh!” Scarlett exclaims as her body shivers and she pulls a small box of leftover food from the dumpster.

It is sprinkling with rain now as she brings the food over and inspects it. 

“I’m just amazing, aren’t I?” the girl states, opening the box to reveal no longer hot chips and a half-eaten burger. 

“Hell yeah, you are,” Joyce mutters, taking a bite of the food.

Scarlett watches her sister, detecting a trace of joy in herself. It’s instances like these that give her the slightest shred of hope. Everything may be awful, and she may be on the verge of breaking at any given moment, but at least she can feed her baby sister properly. 

But then a rumble is heard in the sky.

“Oh…shit,” she whispers.

They huddle under the tiny ridge of roof above them in a vain attempt to keep dry as the rain increases rapidly. Scarlet moves the two garbage bags of clothes and toiletries aside and places the cushions in the middle to make a seat. Despite Joyce’s protests, she manages to get her into the trolley and covers her in all the layers she can find, including the flannel on her back. Finally, she wraps Joyce in their blanket and raises the umbrella that she found sitting at some bus stop. 

It is then that the two hunters flee the bar, the taller one who had introduced himself as Sam pacing quickly under his umbrella, whilst the other sprints for the car, without one. Sam stops before entering the car, witnessing the girl desperately covering her sister from the cruel weather. 

“Scarlett, at least take the umbrella,” the younger sister insists.

“Dude, I’m fine. You just get freakishly cold,” Scarlett tries to convince her, “and besides, I’m already wet, what’s the point if you get drenched too?”

The rain is practically bucketing down now, and Scarlett is stood in her torn jeans and faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt, soaked from head to toe. She shivers under the small roof surrounding the bar that gives her feeble shelter. 

Her hands cradle her arms as her skin starts to go slightly purple from the cold. She notices the two hunters approaching her quickly and retrieves her knife.

“You need to come with us. Now,” the shorter one states.

“Don’t make me fucking hurt you, because I will,” she warns as she steps into the rain in front of Joyce. 

“Ok, just- look,” Sam starts as he raises his hand in defence from under the umbrella, “my name’s Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean Winchester. We’re hunt-”

“I know what you are,” she spits out as she shivers violently, “and we’re done with you people,”

The men, Sam and Dean, wear confused expressions that soon turn to frustration.

“We don’t have time for this,” Dean blurts out, “That thing you saw, it’s after protective older siblings. Oddly specific, I know, but that means it’s coming for me, and it’s coming for you, so let’s get the hell out of here!”

“Fuck. Off.” she replies, beginning to wheel her sister away. No way in hell would she trust these two.

“Please, just let us take you somewhere safe, and warm. You’re freezing,” Sam pleads.

“Scarlett, wait,” Joyce interjects, “They’re telling the truth,”

Scarlett looks to her sister sceptically, before reluctantly swallowing the lump in her throat. As the Winchesters are soon to find out, she always knows.

“Ok, fine… But I’m watching you,” she states, pointing her knife at them both.

“Great, now let’s go, fast,” Sam orders.

The two girls then hesitantly enter the backseat of the Impala, taking the garbage bags holding their belongings with them. The four of them speed off towards the boys’ motel room. 

Sam observes the two girls from the passenger seat, curious. There’s a clear resemblance between the pairs of siblings and he’s intrigued as to how far that resemblance extends. He’s also extremely curious as to how they found themselves in their situation. Dean’s mainly wondering where the hell their accents are from.

“We never got your names,” Sam points out.

“Good,” mumbles Scarlett.

“I’m Joyce,” the younger sister speaks, nudging the other in a scolding manner, “and this is Scarlett,”

Sam and Joyce carry a polite conversation, obtaining basic information about one another, whilst Dean grips the steering wheel tightly with both hands and Scarlett watches the boys’ every move. Sam discovers that Joyce is thirteen, Scarlett being four years older, and Dean finds out that their accents are Australian. The boys refrain from delving into personal questions, presuming that the two have a rather complicated and messy past, just like theirs. 

“Are you going to tell us about this thing that’s apparently after us?” Scarlett asks disdainfully. 

“Uh, yeah. So you know what we do right?” Sam checks, to which the girls nod.

“Thank god we don’t have to give the ‘monsters are real’ speech again,” Dean sneers, stretching his neck.

Sam snickers in response. The longhaired hunter goes on to explain that they were tracking some odd variation of a shtriga, one that feeds off protective older siblings, and permits an evil angel-like glow in the process. He insists that they can easily take it down, and sends them a warm smile from the front seat.


	3. Chapter 3

Upon arriving at the motel and entering the room, Scarlett and Joyce welcome the rush of warmth that ensues. They hadn’t been in a heated room for god knows how long. Scarlett is quick to stop herself though, and remembers to keep their guard up. No matter what Joyce’s ability says, no one is trustworthy. Aside from Joyce of course. 

“Let me make this clear,” she begins, turning to face the Winchesters as they take a seat in front of their research, “one night, and then we’re gone. We’re gonna take down this shtriga while Joyce eats and showers, and then you’re going to forget we ever existed. Got that?”

The boys stare at the stubborn, homeless girl, looks of contemplation masking their faces. They look to each other and Dean quirks an eyebrow. Sam opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The brothers were never very good at babysitting. 

“Look-” Sam starts, but is cut off.

“Whatever you say,” Dean smirks at Scarlett and her sister, “bathroom’s over there,”

She nods curtly before following Joyce into the bathroom and rummaging through their garbage bags to find somewhat clean clothes for her to change in to. 

With the girls in the other room, Sam looks at his older brother with his eyes widened in a warning expression.

“‘Whatever you say’? Really Dean?” he scolds in a rushed whisper, “They’re kids! We can’t just leave them on the streets hungry and freezing,”

“I know, I know,” Dean rolls his eyes, exasperated, “but you heard the girl, there’s no way she’ll cooperate if we don’t go along with her plan,”

“So we’re just going to leave them? It’s only a matter of time until some creep comes by and-”

“Jesus, Sam, I get the point. I’m just saying we worry about what to do with them after we kill the monster that’s trying to friggin’ eat the older one,” he exhales in a matter-of-fact tone, shaking his head.

Their heads snap towards the bathroom door when they hear it swing closed again. Water bouncing off the floor can be heard as Scarlett sits cross-legged in front of the entrance, grasping her knife tightly. 

“So, how do we kill this thing?” she questions hurriedly.

“Well, usually a shtriga can be killed with consecrated iron, but only when it’s vulnerable,” Sam shifts in his chair to face the girl, avidly explaining his research, “which is when it’s feeding. This one’s different though,”

“It’s linked to Cain, ‘cause of the whole older sibling thing,” Dean continues as he rises to extract a beer from the mini fridge, “It’s more powerful, and harder to gank,” he leans against the kitchen bench, bringing the alcohol to his lips.

“Right. So we’re missing a component to the weapon,” Sam finishes.

“Which is?” demands Scarlett.

The brothers look to each other, apprehensive. Dean bites his lip and hangs his head.

“...you don’t know. Great,” she mutters to herself, resting her head on the bathroom door.

Unimpressed, Scarlett rises from the floor and examines the several books littering the table. She scans through the texts, evaluating the research, but struggling to read without her glasses. 

Sam looks on as the shorthaired girl squints at the pages before pulling the laptop towards herself and tapping a few phrases into the search engine. But he notices a concerning wound as she does so. 

“Scarlett, you’re hurt,” he interrupts her investigating and points, for Dean to see, at the vertical slits on both her forearms. About a third of the left wound had been stitched together, the rest was left bloody and exposed.

“What? Oh, that’s nothing,” she dismisses the topic.

“Dude, you’re bleeding…” Dean trails off.

“I just ran out of surgical thread, it’s fine,”

“That could get infected,” Sam adds, eyebrows scrunched together, “how long has it been there?”

“Doesn’t matter right now,” she insists, staring at the screen, “wait…that gives me an idea,”

She taps away at the keyboard again, pulling up several articles and newspaper clippings before settling on one. 

“Those are some serious librarian skills,” Dean scoffs.

“Shut up,” she retorts, before highlighting a paragraph, “here, this particular breed of shtriga feeds off the souls of older siblings… but can be deterred by the blood of the younger,”

“Oh my god, you’re amazing,” Sam breathes out in admiration.

“Aw, look, Sammy’s getting jealous,” Dean snickers, “what a beautiful nerd convention,”  
“Shut up,” Scarlett and Sam say in unison. 

Sam and Dean then continue to theorise how they can add the younger sibling’s blood to the weapon. Scarlett suggests they use her as bait, to which Dean responds “no way in hell” and threatens to cuff her to the room if need be. 

Joyce exits the bathroom, looking much more refreshed and clean. Scarlett beams at her, one of those hopeful moments setting in again. Twice in one day is pretty damn good.

“Thank god you don’t stink anymore,” the older sister teases, to which Joyce softly punches her in the arm.

“Yeah but you still do,” she snickers, before taking her jumper sleeves in her hands “I’d forgotten about the joy that pyjamas bring me,”

The brothers watch in amusement as they gear up, secretly happy that they could help the young girls. They both hope that they could continue to do so, since they see so much of themselves in the pair.

“Ok, so we’re off- no, Scarlett, you can’t come with us- remember to lock the door and don’t let anyone in unless you’re sure it’s us,” Dean instructs.

“There’s dinner on the table and coins so that you can use the motel’s washing machines. Oh and here’s the first aid kit. I’m assuming you want to take care of that yourself,” Sam adds, referring to Scarlett’s wounds as he hands her the red case. 

Dean then saunters over to her as Sam heads out, and makes sure he doesn’t see what he’s about to do.

“Careful with this,” he whispers as he hands Scarlett a gun, which she enthusiastically takes. And then they leave.

Just like that, the girls are alone together again. Scarlett lets out a sigh of relief and turns to her younger sister, with that close-mouthed-smile Joyce had learnt to love. It’s the closest she has seen her sister get to happiness. 

They eat together at the cramped motel table, remembering how easy their old life was with its home-cooked meals and family dinners. Scarlett suggests she saves her meal for later, as expected. However, Joyce pushes the plate towards her as she hears her stomach grumble again. Her big sister may be excellent at looking after her, but she is complete shit at taking care of herself.

After demolishing her long awaited snack, Scarlett enters the bathroom with the first aid kit to tend to her wounds. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go do some laundry while you clean up,” Joyce calls out, picking up the several American coins and their bags of clothes. 

“What? No I can do that, just stay here,” the elder replies hastily.

“Dude, it’s just the laundry room, I’ll be fine,” she protests, approaching the door.

Scarlett groans at Joyce’s determinedness and decides to let her go, but not without the gun. The door swings shut as she drags the thread through her skin and begins completing her stitches. 

Joyce paces the silent corridors of the motel until she finally locates the damn laundry room. The buzz of the machines fills the space as she counts the coins, trying to recall which is which and how much a dime is worth. American currency is weird. Once all the laundry is loaded and being washed, she stands at the entrance of the small room and takes in the scent of the dingy motel. It sure is better than the dumpster smell she’s used to. 

Her reverie is abruptly disturbed as an expansive red glow radiates from across the yard, the direction she had come from. The thirteen-year-old feels the alarm set in before her feet leave the ground and sprint towards the room. Shivers rack through her small body and her heart thumps at a concerning rate. 

“Scarlett!” she screams out as her short legs desperately try to keep up with her pace.

Now she’s shoving the door open and wielding the gun. The cloaked shtriga is larger than she anticipated, and her knees almost buckle under her as she sees that cloaked monster hovering over Scarlett’s sleeping body, draining her. 

Joyce hurriedly shoots at the thing, but to no avail. She then remembers seeing Sam extracting his blood into several syringes, and decides to go with her one plan. Grabbing her knife, she slices into her hand and lunges the blood-soaked weapon into the creature. It backs away slightly and screeches in pain, the red light filling the room coming to a dim. But not for long. 

The beast corners the small girl, its skeletal form looming over her. It grasps her neck and pushes her up the wall, causing her to wheeze and grunt in pain, clasping tiresome fingers over the hold. Scarlett remains passed out on the floor.

Joyce’s eyes flicker between her sister and the creature’s deformed face. But then it contorts in pain as gunshots are heard. The shtriga releases the girl and she drops to the floor, Sam and Dean coming into her view. 

It then attacks Dean to the ground, deciding to switch victims, and he does nothing to stop it. Soon, it’s draining his soul from his body, feeding. 

“Now!” shouts Dean, prompting his brother to shoot it with the consecrated iron bullets multiple times before injecting it with the numerous syringes containing his blood.   
The shtriga finally crumples up and collapses to the ground in a heap with a strident scream, completely dimming the red glow. Sam huffs in liberation and helps Dean off his feet. Scarlett is now sitting with her back against the bed, looking exceptionally worn out as she tries to steady her breathing. Forgetting her own pain, she notices her sister and hurries over to her side. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Joyce calms her, to which she exhales a breath she didn’t know she had been holding in.

Scarlett then rises to her feet and approaches the shtriga’s fresh corpse, before kicking at it viciously. 

“Motherfucker,” she speaks through gritted teeth. 

The brothers haul the monster’s body out of the room so that they can burn its bones, while Scarlett wraps a bandage around her sister’s hand, commending her bravery and smarts. She then finally takes a shower as Joyce retrieves the laundry. Changing into warm, clean clothes has never felt so good. 

The boys re-enter the room as Scarlett is drying her hair with a towel and Joyce is wrapped in a motel blanket. Dean collapses onto his bed, raising his fist in victory.

“One more son of a bitch down!” he huffs out, “You guys are safe now, for the most part,” 

“No such thing as safe,” Scarlett retorts, depositing the towel in the bathroom.

Sam snickers, “So you’re a glass half empty kinda person,” he concludes.

“The glass isn’t half full or half empty if you drink straight from the bottle,” Dean advises in all seriousness, to which Joyce and Sam simultaneously roll their eyes.

“Okay, it’s getting pretty late,” the younger brother announces, “you guys can sleep here tonight,” he finishes as he begins setting up the sofa bed. 

Scarlett seems hesitant, but keeps her mouth shut as Joyce communicates, “please, just one night in a bed,” which she obviously can’t refuse.

Soon enough, Joyce is huddled up in one of the beds, Sam having insisted that she sleep in a proper bed for once. Though Scarlett refused and took the sofa bed to herself, leaving the brothers to share the other bed.

“How am I supposed to share a bed with Gigantor?!” Dean had exclaimed, but is honestly fine with letting the poor girls have one good night’s sleep. 

It only took Sam and Joyce ten minutes to fall comfortably asleep, while a soft hum could be heard from Dean’s headphones as he lay with his eyes shut. Not even attempting at sleep, Scarlett decides to find something entertaining to do. With her notebook and pen in hand, she quietly exits the room to explore the motel. She’s always enjoyed being out at night, not so much when she’s shivering and starving, but for once, she isn’t. 

Scarlett eventually finds a nice view from some random balcony. She hums to herself as her legs swing over the edge and she takes a seat on the railing. She passes the time by doodling in her notebook and scribbling down some scraps of poetry. Moments like these are refreshing, when she’s completely alone in a place usually bustling with people. It’s like a little pocket of time, all to her. These are what she considers to be the perks of insomnia.

Though, it isn’t long until her peace is interrupted by a rather disgruntled Dean.

“What are you doing out here?” he speaks suddenly, almost shocking Scarlett off the ledge.

She reclaims her breath and looks to the man, “I got bored,”

“Oh right, you got bored,” he mutters incredulously, rolling his eyes, “bored of sleeping? You can’t just sneak off in the middle of the night like that,”

“Clearly, I can,” she responds, “My sister and I have survived just fine by ourselves up to now,”

“And how many close calls have you had in the process?” he questions rhetorically.

Scarlett sighs and turns her attention back to the view. She does not need a lecture from this guy she hardly knows right now.

“There’s bad things out there, Scarlett,” Dean attempts, drawing a breath, “But that doesn’t mean there’s no good. You’re safe with us,”

She looks to her notebook and fiddles with the pen, feeling slightly less hostile towards Dean after today’s events.

“How the hell am I supposed to tell the difference?”

Dean scoffs, “I’ll let you know when I do. Sam and I are a pretty alright guess at good though,”

He stares out at the view now, leaning his arms against the railing.

“You’re not so great at the whole sleep thing either, are you?” Scarlett asks.

Dean chuckles and shakes his head, “Four hours is plenty for a hunter,”


	4. Chapter 4

The previous day had been one of the kindest that the sisters have seen in a long time. Obviously they were attacked, but that doesn’t change the fact that they showered and washed their clothes and slept in an actual bed and had a proper meal. Sam and Dean had shown them such tenderness, and for that they’re truly grateful, but the two have a complicated past following them. They can’t afford to hang around for too long, and most definitely cannot have anyone sending them to some foster care program.  
Now Scarlett is quietly gathering their belongings, and trying to remind Joyce that this has to be done, no matter how much she likes the brothers. It was never fair, their life. Though, there is a slight glimmer of hope within Scarlett for her little sister, hope that at some point in the future she could lead a better life. 

So, Scarlett takes everything on the chin. She makes the hard decisions and enforces them. She gets them by, not caring if people grow to hate her because of the aggression she uses to do so. Scarlett believes she is far past the point of saving. But Joyce can still have a future.

“Wait by the door, I just gotta grab some food,” Scarlett orders, opening the mini fridge.

But then Dean’s grunts fill the room as he arises from his sleep groggily. He sits up from beside Sam, most likely about to complain about being extremely cramped next to his absurdly tall brother. But the sight in front of him takes him aback.

“What are you doing?” he questions, slightly panicked as he shakes Sam awake. 

Scarlett turns from the fridge to face the dishevelled hunters staring back at her. As she gathers her thoughts, they stumble out of bed and towards her. In her hands are a few packets of chips and nuts, which she debates making a run with over apologising for. After looking at Joyce, she decides on the latter.

“Uh, sorry,” she begins to mumble, “food isn’t that easy to come by. But we’ll be getting out of your hair now,”

Sam is now standing next to Joyce at the door as Dean steps in front of the older girl.

“Hold on, just-,” he slurs out with a hand lazily held before him, still dazed from just waking up, “wait a minute. You don’t have to leave just yet. We’re not letting you go back to starving on the streets,”

“Dean’s right,” Sam comments, “you guys are young, god knows what’d happen to you. It isn’t safe, or healthy,”

Scarlett lets out a deep breath, trying to keep calm. These hunters don’t understand, no one ever does. They’re never safe.

“Well we’ve made it this far haven’t we?” she flashes a faked smile to accompany her faked optimism. Her gaze hovers between the hunters as she tries to maintain her calm and watches them tilt their heads in scepticism. The older sister quickly resettles into her usual scowl.

“Look, I know how to take care of us. Now get out of the way, and for your own good, forget we ever existed,” she orders, trying to step past Dean.

But he grabs onto her arm before she can, and she feels the anger boiling under her skin again. Sam quirks his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side as smoke rises from his brother’s hand. Dean quickly removes it, groaning in white-hot pain.  
Scarlett mentally curses as he examines his now burnt hand in confusion and looks up at her in shock, but takes the opportunity to push past him, dropping the food.

“Let’s get out of here,” she mumbles to Joyce as she opens the door, but to little success.

The door is swiftly shut closed, yet no one had pushed it and a flapping sound, like one of wings, is heard behind the girls.

“Cas,” Dean warns in his most gravelly tone, cradling his hand, “what the hell is going on?”

All four turn to face the addition to the group, the sisters being understandably confused as to where the hell this man came from. Scarlett immediately withdraws her knife and presses her back against the door. 

“Who the fuck are you? A-And where the fuck did you just…” she demands through a stutter, eyes scanning the room.

Cas shifts uncomfortably, trying to build confidence in his stance. Very few glares have affected the blue-eyed man, but Scarlett is quite the exception.

He clears his throat, “My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the lord,”

She scoffs in response, “yeah right, an angel,”

“They’re not what you’d expect, mostly dicks,” Dean interjects, to which the alleged angel gives him a side glance of disapproval, “Onto more pressing matters, how the hell did she just bURN MY HAND?!”

“You should probably run that under cold water,” Sam chuckles, earning a death glare.

“They have, uh,” Cas sighs, “special abilities,”

“They?” Dean cocks an eyebrow.

“Yes. Joyce has telepathy powers and control of water while Scarlett has telekinesis and control of fire,”

Joyce and Scarlett are now staring at the angel, dumbfounded and slightly concerned about where he got this information from. 

“I believe they both also have invisibility powers,” he finishes.

“Okay the whole angel thing I can handle,” Dean adjusts his footing and purses his lips,   
“but the freakin’ avengers?! Really?” he exclaims, gesturing his burnt hand towards them.

“Yeah, this is weird. Even for us,” Sam adds slowly.

Cas rolls his eyes and looks to the girls, “care to demonstrate?”

They gaze back at him, still confused. Scarlett’s knife wavers in the air.

“…How do you know all that?” asks Joyce, hesitantly. 

“I’m an angel. We have quite a profound source of knowledge on humanity,” he responds.

“Now show them,” Cas prompts, “…please,” he adds on hastily as Scarlett continues to glare at him.

Sam and Dean look to the two girls in anticipation, still slightly doubtful. Scarlett flicks a begrudging look between them before sighing in reluctance. Without any further warning, she disappears from their sight, causing the brothers to flinch in surprise. 

“What the…” Dean trails off, scanning the room for the girl.

Before she comes back into view, the now invisible teenager pushes between them with an unseen force that would evoke fear if they didn’t know who caused it. Then, with a roll of her eyes and while crossing her arms, Scarlett shows herself from behind them.

The hunters huff in a concoction of awe and amusement. Dean’s face lights up as he exclaims, “That’s fucking awesome!”

Scarlett smirks in response before making Sam vanish with a tap of her finger, much to Dean’s concern. 

“Sam?” he shouts in mild panic, turning his head from side to side.

“Dean, I’m…right here?” he says, directed more to himself than to his brother. 

Sam remains invisible as Scarlett chuckles and Dean demands she bring him back. Even Cas suppresses a smile until Joyce walks over and brings Sam back into view. The elder sister pokes her tongue out in defiance. 

“There’s more you need to know,” Cas announces, “there’s a reason that you have found each other,”

The four stare back at the angel in confusion. Scarlett curls her hands into fists, growing tired of the apparent divine intervention. 

“Sam, Dean, you have met your Tethers,” he nods at them.

“And what exactly does that mean?” Dean questions, scrunching his eyebrows.

“It’s a term used in heaven to describe pairs of people who share distinctive traits. Since you two are archangel vessels, the bond is stronger and much harder to break,”

Dean and Scarlett shift uncomfortably, casting brief glances at the other. Neither of them is used to being close to anyone other than their younger sibling, nor content with the situation. 

“That also means that it can be used against you, so I suggest you keep this information to yourselves,” Cas continues, “It also comes with physical boundaries. Dean and Scarlett, Sam and Joyce, you cannot be a certain distance apart. So far I have calculated that distance to be approximately seven miles,”

“Wait, that’s not possible,” Sam states, “Dean and I have been all over the country. These two haven’t even lived in America this whole time,”

“They travel just as much as you do, and to relatively the same places thanks to Fate,” he explains, “And the bond did not abide by physical means until Joyce and Scarlett lost their mother last year,”

Joyce looks down and gulps as Sam places a timid hand on her shoulder and Dean mutters a quiet “Oh”. He watches as Scarlett stares straight ahead, the pain a combined numbness at this point. 

“So…what are we supposed to do now?” asks Sam hesitantly. 

“Stick together until we figure out how to break the physical bond. It can prove useful at times, but the danger of it being used wrongly is imminent,” Cas instructs.

“Looks like you guys are stuck babysitting,” Joyce snickers, to which the brothers scoff.

“Here, Heaven summoned this for you to purchase them proper clothes and such,” Cas adds, handing Dean a wad of cash and brushing his hand against his in the process, “I’ll see you in the bunker,”

Then the wings are heard again and the angel is gone, leaving the four of them in contemplation. Scarlett groans, disliking the restriction that this ‘Tether’ holds. The thought of these boundaries constricting them for the past year without her even knowing makes her skin crawl. 

“Breakfast?” Dean suggests.


	5. Chapter 5

The Impala roams the car park of the first shopping centre Dean could find, the motor purring and Joyce practically bouncing in excitement. After a quick breakfast, they had decided to set the girls up with new clothes, fresh toiletries, and anything they need. Sam grins as he looks forward to spoiling the poor teenagers who have done nothing but struggle for the past year.

Upon entering the elaborately clean shopping centre, Scarlett can’t help but feel out of place. Dirty wretches from the street like her don’t belong in places like this. She could sense the crowds of people surrounding her judging and staring at her torn clothes that suddenly make her feel more vulnerable than ever before. The girl seems to shrink in on herself and fiddles with her hands uncomfortably. The temptation to vanish is growing rapidly. Maybe some new clothes would do her good, but she was her last priority.

“God, last time I was in a place like this, we were hunting a shifter,” Sam sneers, looking down at the girls.

“Last time I was in a place like this, I almost got arrested,” Scarlett responds with an uneasy smirk, clutching her amethyst pendant.

Dean chuckles at his so-called Tether, beginning to understand their similarities. He suggests that they split up, but Scarlett is hesitant to leave her little sister alone. 

“You seem to be forgetting that we’ve only known you for a few days,” she argues, “and that I’m a paranoid bastard,”

“Scarlett, c’mon it’ll be faster. I’ll send you a message by the slim chance anything goes wrong, alright?” Joyce reasons with her.

The older sister bites her lip in hesitance and moves uneasily, before grunting out a “Fine” in reluctance.

Dean hands his brother half of the money and agrees to meet at the pharmacy in two hours, before Sam and Joyce leave him alone with Scarlett. 

“So, where to first?” he asks, hands in his pockets. She merely shrugs in response with her scowl still lingering.

“You’re the teenage girl!” the obnoxiously butch man exclaims, “How in the hell am I supposed to know what to do here?”

Scarlett chuckles lightly while trying to step aside from the people constantly bustling past them. The tiles at her feet seem to dissolve into one flowing blur as her heart rate picks up. She can feel the stares heating her head as sweat prickles the back of her neck. Something’s going very wrong again. 

“Hey,” Dean mutters in a concerned tone as Scarlett stumbles to grab onto the nearby railing, “Are you okay? What’s-”

She throws her weary arm between them, holding up one finger precariously. She tries desperately to catch her breath as it rapidly spills from her chest. Dean stands by with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

Thankfully, only a minute or so passes by before that damn breathing technique finally pulls through and Scarlett regains control of her body. Her arm is dropped beside her as she turns to the hunter before pushing past him and wiping the few stray tears off her face. He follows close behind, trying to make sense of what just happened, but too scared to ask. 

They enter some random shop and find the appropriate section for the short girl. The pair both glance around the area as if they belonged literally anywhere else. Coat hangers line the walls bearing various pink and cropped items, brightly lit and somewhat cramped as some cheap pop song infiltrates the space. This part of the store is relatively empty, aside from the peculiar mannequins styled with fake eyelashes on their cheeks.

“What the…” utters Dean, staring up at the things.

Scarlett just laughs, explaining that the display is probably supposed to be artistic. She moves about the stacked clothing, arms held tentatively. Her eyes scan the various options and search for maybe just one that appeals to her while she cringes at the others. 

Dean inspects the other side of the racks, rather confused. They both make disgusted faces at a bright pink ‘YOLO’ shirt. He watches as Scarlett approaches him with two items in hand.

“Okay I’m good,” she announces, clutching the clean, black jeans and cliché Nirvana shirt to her chest.

“Awesome,” the green-eyed man responds curtly, “Wanna move on to the next place?”

The girl averts her gaze to the floor and takes a deep breath in. Her silence lingers before she replies, “…I think I have enough,”

Dean stares down at her strangely, taking the clothes into his hands, “Well I think you need more than just one outfit,”

“I have other clothes,” she defends quickly, “and besides, we can use the money for more important stuff,”

The hunter scrunches his eyebrows together and parts his lips as his mind works. It bothers him how similar they are to each other. He wonders if that makes her want to hate him as much as it makes him want to hate her. 

“Alright. Well either you choose your new clothes or I will. And I don’t think you want that, sweetheart,” Dean pulls his most smug face down at her.

Scarlett glares and huffs in response, vehemently disliking the trace of authority in Dean’s voice.

“Fine, fuck you. And don’t call me that,” she huffs while dragging the outfit from him before she turns swiftly towards the counter.

“Oh come on. I’d choose good clothes,” he yells after her, feigning offense, “This tether thing means we’re like the same person! Don’t you trust yourself?”

“Absolutely not,” she answers as he catches up to her and they wait in line to purchase her new clothes. 

After collecting masses of black clothing and enduring ages of Dean teasing her with frilly dresses, Scarlett finally convinces her Tether that she has enough clothes. They also managed to find her a new pair of glasses and a phone, which made her fight back tears.

Now they approach the pharmacy to meet Sam and Joyce and buy toiletries. Scarlett and Dean are practically drowning in shopping bags as they enter the store and find their siblings. They’re greeted with warm smiles.

The sisters grab a shopping basket each and begin roaming the aisles while the brothers wait with the other purchases. Scarlett clenches her fists as she attempts to diffuse her raging excitement towards shampoo and conditioner and body wash and thank god, tampons. She stocks up on all these items, amongst others, in bulk and lets Joyce choose the toothbrushes. The younger girl always enjoyed small pleasures, cool socks and colourful toothbrushes being two of them. 

Sam pays for all the items, adding bandages and ointments for Scarlett’s wounds, and earning a confused stare from the cashier. By the time the four of them finally make it back to the Impala, they’re exhausted and struggling to fit all their purchases into the car. 

“Sam,” Dean gets his brother’s attention from the driver’s seat, “I think we just did the most shopping in our combined lives within a few hours,”

Sam scoffs and smiles slightly as he looks down and adjusts his seatbelt. 

“Let’s just get home already,” he suggests.

Scarlett and Joyce are settled in the back seat, fawning over their brand new clothes and clean belongings. Scarlett’s interest peaks at the phrase ‘home’.

“Where exactly are we going again?” she asks sternly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Our bunker in Kansas,” Dean responds as he brings the car into motion and begins the long drive, “Few hours from here. I think you’ll like it,”

 

The car ride is mostly quiet, aside from the Black Sabbath album filling the silence faintly. Scarlett had struggled to contain her love for the band and couldn’t help but sing along softly. Of course Dean heard and smiled to himself.

Now Scarlett is gazing out the window as the open road slips through her vision, occasionally glancing back at a sleepy Joyce. The American roads are so foreign to her. She feels like she’ll never get used to driving on the wrong side, or the steering wheel being on the wrong side, let alone the unnerving nature of those barren tar strips surrounded by so few trees.   
“Hungry?” Sam breaks her reverie, turning in his seat and waving the snacks they had bought at the servo. 

“Always am for servo shit,” the elder sister replies as she reaches for one of the confectionary packets.

“Servo?” Dean questions defensively, “The hell is that?”

She folds her eyebrows together and stares dumbfounded at the man, “…the place we bought this stuff, duh,”

“You mean…the gas station,” Sam concludes with amusement.

“Yeah or whatever the fuck you guys call it,” she replies, leaning back in her seat and shoving the food in her mouth.

Sam shakes his head softly with a loose snicker lingering on his lips. Scarlett watches the boys routinely, her persistent suspiciousness remaining at the forefront of her mind. She technically has no reason not to trust them, they’ve shown her nothing but kindness and whether she would admit it or not, they saved Joyce when she couldn’t. But these sorts of things are never easy for the wounded girl. 

The younger sister stirs in her light sleep, slowly coming back to full awareness. Scarlett looks over to her as she rubs her eyes lazily and stretches. Joyce’s gaze shifts to the front seats, a mischievous grin setting in. Scarlett recognises the look all too well and shakes her head with narrowed eyes. Her sister merely shrugs as she smirks and focuses on the beer bottle Dean had left in the cup holder. 

“Oh calm down, sis,” the telepathic girl reaches out to Scarlett’s mind with a trace of enjoyment, “As you like to say, we’re establishing power,”

She responds with an eye roll as the liquid starts to curl out of the bottle and the hovering stream takes direction. Dean catches the movement in the corner of his eyes and glances down briefly. He performs a double take with widened eyes as he grumbles a, “WHAT THE-” and the vehicle staggers along the empty road. 

Joyce bursts out in uncontained laughter as she clutches her stomach. Sam turns to face his brother and struggles to hold back his amusement.

“That isn’t funny!” Dean shouts defensively.

She ignores him and steers the alcohol towards Sam’s lips. He is taken aback at first, but eventually opens his mouth slightly to accept the drink. Scarlett holds a shy smirk and looks back out the window before deciding to join in. 

Sam mutters his thanks and the liquid is returned to the bottle, which Scarlett had turned invisible by that point. She sends her sister a knowing look, and she complies, implanting the desire to drink into Dean’s mind.

Almost immediately, he looks down from the road briefly to find the bottle. The sisters giggle silently as they see the mental process taking action in his head. 

“Sam where’d you put the beer?” Dean presses needily. 

“I didn’t touch it,” he responds mockingly. 

“Then where the hell did it go?!” he demands before the car is filled with the sisters’ laughter. 

“Son of a bitch…” he trails off after realising what they had done.

He tries to return his attention to the road and to suppress his annoyance, gripping the wheel tightly and practically pouting. The now visible bottle rises gradually to the side of his face as he stares ahead. All but Dean snicker with puffed cheeks.

“Uh…Dean?” Sam prompts, glee lacing his voice. 

“What?!” he barks in response.

“I think I found the beer,”

The Impala is complete with explosive laughter at Sam’s remark, as Dean glances sketchily at the bottle before ripping it from the air and taking a rushed sip. 

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” he drones as the car ride nears its end and they approach the bunker.

As they enter through the front door, Scarlett is both impressed and slightly concerned about the extensive security. Her bubbling curiosity, however, comes close to blanketing the apprehension. But she refuses to let that happen as she trails behind Sam and Dean, keeping Joyce within arms reach and consistently scanning their surroundings. 

The bunker is like a world of its own, but threatens claustrophobia. The brothers begin explaining how incredibly safe the place is as they trudge down the staircase with the numerous shopping bags. The sound of their footsteps clambering down the staircase fills the room, and the sisters gaze around the space, awestruck. Amber lighting frames their faces as they examine their new accommodation. Anything is better than their previous arrangement, and they would have been content with a simple roof over their heads, but this is beyond every one of their expectations. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Dean questions the girls, “I thought you’d like it,”

Scarlett snaps to attention, closing her open mouth and clearing her throat.

“I guess,” she replies nonchalantly.

“C’mon, we got two spare bedrooms,” Sam interjects, leading the way down the corridor.

The girls settle in to their new bedrooms at vastly different speeds. Joyce sets up her room meticulously, placing her few prior belongings on the shelves. She excitedly fills the wardrobe with all her new clothes, organising them precisely and decorating the surfaces with the candles she convinced Sam to buy. 

Across the hallway, Scarlett sits amongst her new purchases on the bedroom floor, staring hesitantly at the cold furniture. She decides to at least dump her clothes into the wardrobe draws before quickly exiting the room, arms held tentatively around herself. Standing outside her sister’s door, she can hear her humming to herself. This sparks a smile to creep onto the older girl’s face as she rests her forehead on the thick door. She shifts on her feet uncomfortably, suffering her usual conflict of interests. 

The rest of the night is spent eating the burgers Dean had prepared avidly, smirking inwardly as he watches his brother and the girls enjoy his meal. After showering in the impressive water pressure (Joyce had much fun bending it) Scarlett forces her younger sister into bed, adorned by her brand new pyjamas.

“Hey, Scarlett,” she had exclaimed, gripping onto her hand before she could leave, “Things are finally…okay. That angel answered my prayers!”

Scarlett snickers faintly, averting her gaze to the floor. She never understood how her little sister could keep such faith as to still believe in prayers. 

“Just don’t get too comfortable, we won’t be here for long,” she replies, sighing as she approaches the room’s exit.

“But why?” Joyce questions, annoyance flaring her tone, causing Scarlett to look up from the floor.

“You know why,” is all she says with her back turned before finally exiting the room, her fatigue evident in her slouch.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam bolts upright as his sleep is pierced by a deafening scream coming from one of the other bedrooms. He’s quick to spring into action, grabbing his gun with a rushed but focused grip and bursting into the hallway.

He sees Dean hurriedly exiting his own bedroom, also bearing weapons, and they both sprint through the corridor towards the source of the scream. The elder of the two charges through the bunker with an irritated expression. His panic is flooded with exasperation and annoyance, because it seems that neither pair of siblings could get one fucking break. Sam’s long brown hair is a matted mess as he approaches the girls’ bedrooms and dreads discovering whom the scream belonged to.

A sharp grunt escapes the door to the right as the brothers draw nearer to it. Dean forces the door open hastily and bursts into the room ready to shoot something. Instead he finds Scarlett sat upright in bed, hands trembling and body shaking as her terrified eyes are strained wide open. 

Sam and Dean huff a sigh of relief and stand at the doorway, confused since they can’t see any danger. It is then that Joyce pushes past them and mumbles a few instructions.

“Oh no, not again,” she mutters tiredly as she looks to Sam, “Go get her some water,”

The younger girl approaches her sister with tender footsteps and turns back to a still confused and hesitant Sam with a demanding, “now!”

He snaps to attention before hurrying out of the room. 

Dean’s eyes follow Joyce as she slowly steps towards the still shaking girl. Scarlett scrambles away from the two and hits her back to the bed head, close to hyperventilating.

“Scarlett, hey, it’s alright,” she coos as she places a gentle touch to her shoulder and Scarlett flinches away, “It was just another dream, okay? Just a dream, you’re here with me, we’re safe,” 

Joyce tentatively and slowly seats herself on the mattress and looks at her poor sister with a reassuring and pitying gaze. She tightens her grip on her shoulder and grasps her trembling hand in an attempt to ground her back to the present moment, a technique their mother had taught her. The older sister scans the room with panicked eyes.

Dean’s mouth is ajar as he watches the interaction, almost unnerved at the similarities he sees. He finds it strange viewing the stubborn girl in such a vulnerable state, her chest heaving up and down rapidly. He feels an uncomfortable tension in the air, as well as Scarlett’s terror, the scene being all too familiar.

“Y-You’re…ali-” Scarlett stumbles before she’s interrupted by her own uncontrolled breathing.

Sharply, she grabs onto her younger sister and throws her into a desperate embrace, clinging to the fabric of her shirt and allowing the stray tears to fall. At this moment, Sam rushes into the room with a full glass of water, stopping abruptly at the sight before him.

He hands Joyce the glass as she pulls away momentarily, bringing the drink to her sister’s lips. Sam steps backwards to his brother, exchanging sombre looks.

“We should, uh,” he half-whispers and points to the door with his thumb.

“Oh uh- yeah,” Dean stutters out before leading the way out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Scarlett’s trembling slows down gradually as she clings to her sister. She eventually pulls away, brushing her hair behind her ear and wiping under her eyes swiftly. The bed creaks as she sits up properly and finishes the water, pulling herself back together and attempting to shake off the lingering feeling of the nightmare. Her breathing stables and she looks to Joyce thankfully, a hint of shame behind her eyes and in her sheepish actions.

“You okay now?” the younger sister asks calmly, all too familiar with the situation.

“Yeah- Yeah I’m fine uh, go back to bed, Joyce,” she responds in a stumble.

Scarlett looks away in an attempt to avoid Joyce’s concerned gaze. She straightens her back bluntly and guises to the door in a silent plea for solitude. Joyce understands and steps along the bunker floor back to her new bedroom. Scarlett thanks her shyly as she slips past the door. 

The older girl takes a few moments to compose herself before her cold feet touch the ground tentatively. She fiddles with the hem of her pyjama shirt with one hand, raking the other through her hair, as she makes her way out of the room and towards the kitchen. 

Stepping loftily down the small staircase into the room, she rubs some of the sleep from her eyes. In front of her in the kitchen, Dean sits at a bench top, head in his hand. His hair is spiked upwards in all outrageous directions as he drags a rugged hand over his stubble tiredly. Dean’s head snaps upwards when he notices Scarlett’s presence.

“Oh, uh- hey,” he offers a lazy smile in her direction. She doesn’t reply as she takes a seat across from him.

They sit mirrored from each other, bearing the same worn out slouch and baggy eyes. Scarlett sighs heavily, raking her hands through her hair again and dipping her weary head. Dean begins to twitch slightly, growing uncomfortable at something close to his reflection. The sound of his seat scraping along the kitchen floor fills the room as he paces to the fridge, pulling out a beer.

“Gimme one,” Scarlett speaks, hand outstretched dazedly. The hunter gives her a pointed look and scrunches his eyebrows together before averting his eyes in consideration. 

“C’mon, I’m almost legal in Australia,” she huffs exasperatedly, rolling her eyes, “And I would be if we were in Sweden actually,”

Dean tempers as he turns back to the fridge and returns to the table with two beers. The girl smiles slightly at her victory and takes the bottle from him thankfully, using her telekinesis to pop the lids off. Dean flinches vaguely, still not used to it.

“So,” he begins after bringing the drink to his lips, “is that why you don’t sleep?”

She scoffs lightly in amusement, taking a sip of her beer. 

“I don’t sleep because I can’t,” she replies with arched eyebrows, “except when I eventually do… that happens,”

“Nightmares?” Deans asks bluntly, to which Scarlett nods hesitantly, “Huh… yeah, me too. Let me guess, a lot of them are about Joyce dying,”

Scarlett shifts uncomfortably, squinting her eyes for a moment, “And yours are about Sam dying,”

Dean nods solemnly.

“Do they ever…?”

“Go away?” Dean finishes for her with a slight smirk, “Not really. They get easier though, and less frequent. So yeah it gets better and all that shit,”

The teenager snickers faintly, shaking her head, “You’re not too bad, Winchester,”

He responds with an unusually genuine smile and a shrug before swigging the drink. And there they stayed until early morning, neither being able to sleep. More time to work as they saw it.


End file.
